


You’re not my nemesis

by ItaLolita



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 100 Ways to Say I Love You Writing Challenge, 100 chapters of slow burn, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Slow Burn, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28575189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItaLolita/pseuds/ItaLolita
Summary: 99 times Harry and Draco said “I love you” without actually saying it, and 1 time they did.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

Water streamed down the windshield, and Harry was hypnotized by the lights and the repetitive sound of the windshield wipers moving back and forth rhythmically. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Malfoy was leaning his head against the window, long white-blonde hair falling like a curtain over the side of his face, obscuring his expression.

“Potter, I only agreed to come with you because I’m technically not allowed to travel without a ‘responsible party’ present, so if you fall asleep at the wheel I  _ will _ hex you.”

“You can’t hex anyone either or they’ll send you to Azkaban,” Harry shot back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“All the better for you. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with your nemesis as a coworker.”

“You’re not my nemesis, Malfoy.”

“A nuisance, then.”

“Sure.”

Malfoy turned to look at Harry, silver eyes narrowing. 

**“Pull over. Let me drive for awhile.”**

“No.”

“Why? You’re obviously tired.”

“And you’re a war criminal. I could be fired if I let you drive.”

“A war criminal proven innocent by a jury of his peers. Let me drive or I make you drink an energy potion. No one has to know, Potter.”

Harry shuddered. He remembered Malfoy’s energy potions. They tasted like horseradish and licorice and left him sitting awake for hours past the intended window. Even if Malfoy meant well this time, there was no way he was experiencing that again.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

Harry pulled over.


	2. Chapter 2

The last day before the students arrived was upon them. Draco was frantically reorganizing the empty vials in the potions classroom when Potter arrived at the door.

Draco turned on his heel to face him.

“What do you want, Potter?”

Potter seemed to marvel at the classroom. Scented candles floated near the ceiling, and a thick green rug covered the floor. The seats at every desk were cushioned, and gone were the jars of pickled specimens Severus had favored, replaced by flowerpots carefully labeled in Draco’s own thin cursive scrawl.

“It’s so… warm,” he remarked, and Draco noted that it was one of his more especially stupid observations.

“Of course it is. Severus may have liked his classroom freezing, but some of us have sense.”

“I just mean, you’ve made it so much  _ brighter _ . More welcoming. It doesn’t feel like the classroom itself is a punishment. There’s  _ flowers _ , Malfoy. Nightshade, admittedly, but flowers. What happened?”

“I don’t feel the need to terrify my students.”

“And I used to think you were just like Snape.”

“Severus was a good man, but his teaching style… left some things to be desired.”

Potter laughed, a warm joyful laugh that Draco had never heard before. He decided he hated it, but memorized it for later analysis.

“What is your purpose here, Potter? Because I find it hard to believe you only came for small talk.”

“Oh, right, yes,” Potter said, reaching into the pocket of his robe, worn open over a crimson turtleneck and black dress pants. He retrieved a small spherical bottle and placed it in Draco’s palm.

Draco peered into the bottle to inspect it. Inside was a miniature green mountain range, on top of which a white dragon with glittering scales was perched. The dragon blinked its opalescent eyes and breathed out a stream of scarlet fire. It was beautiful.

“What is this?” Draco asked suspiciously.

“It’s an Antipodean Opaleye.”

“I know what breed the dragon is, Potter, I’m asking why are you giving me this?”

Potter shrugged.

**“It reminded me of you.”**

Draco stared at him, bewildered.

“That’s stupid, even for you, Potter.”

Potter rolled his eyes, but he had an amused smirk on his face.

“Do you like it or not?”

Draco considered his answer before giving in.

“Thank you, Potter.”

“Call me Harry.”

“Never.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry couldn’t sit still. He was finally a professor at Hogwarts, his dream since he was eleven, and he was sitting at the high table during the Welcome Feast. He couldn’t decide what to look at, the students or the other teachers or the thousands of candles floating high above his head. 

The other new professors were also excited, more obviously in Neville, while Malfoy was clearly trying to remain composed. Harry knew he would say something like “good first impressions are the foundations of respect,” but he was too busy marveling at the spectacle of it all.

The Sorting came and went in a blur. Harry noted a few memorable children, like the red-headed girl named Victoria Lesley who looked exactly like a Weasley (Slytherin), George Stephens, a sickly-looking boy who coughed the whole time (Hufflepuff), Aster Mulaney, a metamorphmagus girl whose hair shifted from brown to red and gold when she was sorted (Gryffindor), and Wesley White, a boy with one blue eye and one brown (Ravenclaw).

Harry felt a surge of pride when he remembered he was Head of Gryffindor now -McGonagall had insisted- and would be responsible for a whole quarter of the students. It made him feel a bit queasy, but high expectations were not new to him.

Malfoy was sitting just next to him, attempting to look bored and sophisticated. He was the new Slytherin Head, and was trying to make himself seem above it all. However, his leg was shaking, a nervous tic Harry knew from eighth year. Malfoy had developed it during the war, and it still persisted even now.

Harry tried to focus on his food, but kept stealing glances at Malfoy. The third time he looked up, Malfoy looked back at him, before snapping his gaze away. Harry looked down, embarrassed, then confused as to why he was embarrassed in the first place.

The blonde cleared his throat. Harry winced, preparing himself for Malfoy’s trademark scathing remarks. Instead, Malfoy produced a box from his robes and slid it across the table to Harry.

“What’s this?” Harry asked, taking the box.

“A chocolate frog. A good one. I know you have to have one on the first day every year, so I thought you should at least have some quality dark chocolate.”

“That’s… very considerate of you, Professor Malfoy.” Harry pulled a galleon from a hidden pocket in his own robe. “Here.”

Malfoy gave a strained smile.

**“No, no, it’s my treat.”**

Harry responded with a beaming smile of his own.

“So much for being my nemesis.”

“Shut up, Potter.”

Harry smiled wider. He opened the box, causing the extremely realistic chocolate frog inside to jump several feet in the air. Harry caught it using a levitation charm, drawing the eye of several students, besides those already staring, hoping to glean some information about the new, very famous professor.

Harry just laughed and popped the frog into his mouth.

It was perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was ruined. First day of classes, and he’d already screwed everything up. Draco had been preparing for his first class, when he dropped his vial of Draught of Peace. Now he was shaking, staring at the shattered bottle and pool of turquoise liquid on the floor. He was unable to think, speak, or move.

Then, out of nowhere, Potter appeared at his door. 

“Malfoy? What’s wrong?”

Draco motioned wordlessly to the mess in the floor. Potter’s mouth formed a shocked ‘o’ as he took in the scene before him. Draco realized he looked a mess, trembling and red-faced, reduced to a quivering child by a dropped bottle. It was shameful.

**“Come here. Let me fix it.”**

A strangled noise escaped Draco, who promptly bit his tongue. He couldn’t be like this in front of Potter. Not when they were finally supposed to be on equal footing. He couldn’t let Potter get the advantage. He crossed the room to Potter, who took one of his hands in his own.

“Malfoy, was that potion important? I’ve never seen you get this upset over a broken bottle before.”

Draco swallowed thickly, then nodded, trying not to cry.

“Can you tell me what it was? Maybe I can help you find a replacement in the Potions Store.”

Draco finally found his ability to speak.

“It’s not in the Potions Store. That was my Draught of Peace, and I don’t have a replacement.”

Potter smiled softly.

“Why didn’t you just say that? I have plenty of that in my office.”

Draco looked back at him, puzzled.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll tell you after we get it.”

Potter levitated the broken bottle and it’s contents into a waste bin, then hooked his arm around Draco’s. With a small popping sound, they apparated to Potter’s office.

Potter extricated himself from Draco and turned to rummage in his desk drawer. He pulled out three vials of identical turquoise potion. He held them out to Draco.

“Here.”

Draco took them quickly.

“Thank you, Potter.”

“You still haven’t told me why you need it.”

“Tell me why you have it first.”

“Simple. I get nightmares. It helps. You?”

Draco sighed. “Clinically diagnosed anxiety, apparently. St. Mungo’s wanted to make sure I wouldn’t get into trouble, so they’re medicating me.”

Potter didn’t look convinced.

“You’re sure they’re not right?”

“I’m sure, Potter. Malfoys don’t have anxiety.”

Potter held up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Okay then. You should get back to your classroom, students are going to start coming in any second.”

Draco nodded, then turned to leave. Potter’s voice stopped him.

“Good luck.”

Draco looked back at him.

“And you as well.”

Then he took his leave, clutching the vials the whole way.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was exhausted. The first day of classes had been exciting, but ultimately very tiring.

He probably shouldn’t have cast the Patronus charm in every class, but he had wanted to impress his students. Producing the large glowing stag took a lot out of him, mostly because he didn’t have enough of the happy memories required.

He had decided to take a walk in the Forbidden Forest, just to reacquaint himself. He was far past his fear of the dangers that lurked within, but the cold night air and the cover of darkness still unnerved him.

The stillness was the strangest part. Usually the Forest was full of strange sounds, the noises of crawling monstrosities, or the far-off bustle of Firenze’s herd. It wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t exactly quiet.

Now it was dead silent. It was like everything after the war; too quiet. Harry supposed that the world had simply run out of things to throw at him. Or maybe now that he had fulfilled his purpose, there was nothing left. But he was still here, still living, so where did that leave him?

His head hurt. He turned to walk away, and found himself face-to-face with Malfoy.

He exhaled sharply in relief.

“Oh, it’s just you, Malfoy. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. I wanted to talk to you about your first impressions of the students, but It’s late, it can wait until tomorrow. You should be heading back.”

“How did you even find me?”

“You’re more predictable than you think, Potter,” Malfoy remarked with a smirk.

“Great. Now I need to find some place you won’t find me.”

Malfoy’s smirk turned into a genuine smile.

**“I’ll walk you home.”**

Harry took a moment to catch his breath. He hadn’t known Malfoy  _ could  _ smile. And now that he knew, he didn’t ever want to go back.

“Um, yeah, sure.”

They set off together, walking slowly to appreciate the beauty of the grounds, speaking in hushed tones. Harry told Malfoy about the first year that had tried to cast a patronus without any experience, resulting in a stream of sparks that didn’t stop until Harry spelled the wand out of her hand; and Malfoy told Harry about the student who was so full of himself that he attempted to drink the samples of Draught of Living Death because it “wouldn’t work on him.”

They strolled through the castle, taking a long route via the winding moving staircases. Harry felt almost disappointed when they reached his chambers, and the bedroom directly adjacent to his office and classroom.

“I believe this is where I must leave you, Potter.”

“Thank you, Malfoy. See you at breakfast?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Of course. Unless you eat all the scones before I have the chance.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then Harry was alone. He sighed, and retreated into his new living space. He fell asleep still thinking about Malfoy’s smile.


End file.
